


Easy

by heygaymayday



Series: Look Out, Jackson Town [1]
Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Clueless Ellie (The Last of Us), F/F, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Slow Romance, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:54:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25553905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heygaymayday/pseuds/heygaymayday
Summary: She can't stop to look at it too closely, to look at this feeling with any real consideration, because the results would be devastating. Because she would have to admit that what she feels for Jesse is strong and real and valid and good----but it's not this.
Relationships: Cat/Ellie (The Last of Us), Dina/Ellie (The Last of Us)
Series: Look Out, Jackson Town [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854280
Comments: 37
Kudos: 318





	1. It's Not This

**Author's Note:**

> Literally just Ellie/Dina fluff.  
> Might include some minor references to previous fics.  
> Love talking about this stuff, so follow me on Twitter if you have thoughts to share: @heygaymayday

**_ELLIE_ **.

There’s a low hum of music saturating the air inside Ellie’s room, a deep bass pulsing in a lazy rhythm; combined with the extraordinary heat of the summer, it makes for a slow, easy kind of feeling between Ellie and Cat.

The heat has been excruciating for weeks, and maybe they would’ve had a better chance at catching a breeze outside, but Ellie likes it in here. Maybe it’s stuffy, maybe her skin feels sticky and unbearably warm, but it’s fine. She just likes spending time alone with Cat, away from the prying eyes of their friends. And, of course, the most prying of eyes of all--Joel.

“Oh, look at this one,” Cat says, lying sprawled in the floor beside Ellie, and she holds up the comic book she’s reading, indicates a particular panel of illustration, “Look at that--how it all goes into this triangle right here? The crossing swords all point back to the main character? That’s top notch shit. I love it.”

Ellie leans up on her elbow to look at the panel. She had never really thought about it before, but Cat’s right. There’s definitely a specificity to the way things are drawn, a specificity Ellie had never appreciated before Cat pointed it out. Now she can’t stop looking for it everywhere. 

Cat lowers the comic book, looks up at Ellie with an expression Ellie can’t totally read, a kind of quiet, steady contentment. Their eyes meet and Cat doesn’t look away; there’s a long silence and Cat just keeps looking at her in that warm, happy way.

“What?” Ellie asks, and a smile pulls at her lips against her will.

“Nothing,” Cat says, “You’re just cute. I like looking at you.”

Ellie rolls her eyes, starts to move away in embarrassment.

“Come back,” Cat tells her pleadingly, catches her arm, pulls her close again.

Ellie’s heart starts to beat a little harder. The windows are open, just in case a breeze might want to wander through, and yet it feels like the temperature rises ten more degrees. Cat’s so pretty, with her smooth, dark hair and her intensely hazel eyes; she’s so effortlessly _cool_ and confident and she knows so much of this art stuff--it’s easy, wanting to be closer to her, wanting to _stay_ close to her, despite the heaviness of the heat.

“Well?” Cat says, now that Ellie is leaned close over her; her fingers twist idly in the hem of Ellie’s tank top.

“Well, what?” Ellie says, eyes searching hers.

“Well, are you gonna kiss me or not?” Cat says with a laugh.

“Oh, is that what this is?” Ellie says, feigning ignorance, “Do you want me to kiss you? Like, now? Right now--? Or should I wait--"

Cat interrupts her by leaning up to do the kissing herself. A warm feeling rushes through Ellie, comfortable and calm and chaotic, all at once. 

She’s not _new_ to kissing. It’s not the first time she’s kissed Cat, even. But it’s still mostly unexplored territory, still a space she’s trying to feel out and understand. Cat makes it easy and uncomplicated; she’s made it clear how she feels about Ellie, and so it’s not hard to feel safe with her. Comfortable. 

It also helps that kissing, as it turns out, is--like, really fun. Like, it’s fucking amazing, and Ellie isn’t sure why more people aren’t talking about it. It’s a whole new kind of freedom, being able to close her eyes and lose herself in another person, in a feeling; who the fuck cares that the world is full of face-eating monsters when there’s _kissing_ to be done?

Something happens this time, though. Maybe it’s the way Cat wraps her fingers into the band of Ellie’s jeans, or some small noise that Cat makes underneath her, but something surges up in Ellie, a feeling that demands _more._ And maybe Cat senses it, one way or another, because in another instant, she’s pulling her shirt over her head.

Ellie hesitates, breathless but uncertain.

“Is this okay?” Cat asks, uncharacteristically unsure, whether on her own behalf or Ellie’s--Ellie can't tell.

“Yeah,” Ellie says, even though part of her really isn't sure at all, “Absolutely--”

Maybe part of her is uncertain, but the rest of her? The rest of her couldn't change course now even if she wanted.

And Cat makes it easy, easy to feel safe here in this stifling room, in the depths of the summer’s heat wave. Cat makes it easy to feel happy and simple and uncomplicated. Makes it easy to feel like a teenager, and nothing else. 

\--

That summer stretches on and the heat doesn’t let up. Patrols become a sweat-laden slog, and Ellie resents the time she has to spend away from Cat. It would be nice if Cat could just join the patrols, but there’s no denying that it’s probably not the best job for her. She prefers the comfortable confines of the gates, and Ellie can’t blame her. There’s a certain amount of danger involved in every outing--she can’t hold it against Cat for wanting to stay safely behind in Jackson.

Ellie’s waiting impatiently at the gate, with Shimmer stamping her feet in the dry dirt; she doesn’t know what’s taking Jesse so long, but he needs to hurry his ass up or she’s going to leave without him. The sooner they get out there and check in, the sooner they can get back. The sooner she can crawl back into bed with Cat.

But Jesse never arrives. Instead, it’s Dina who draws her horse up alongside Ellie. 

“What’s up, Boston?” She asks, hands loose on the reins, rifle slung over her shoulder, “You ready or what?”

“Where’s Jesse?” Ellie asks, and there’s already a rush in her heartbeat, a traitorous lurching in her stomach at the thought of spending an extended amount of time with Dina. 

“Sick,” Dina says shortly, “Doc says it’s the flu, so he’s quarantined for two weeks. But I can go get him, if you’d prefer to go with Sir Pukes-A-Lot--”

“Funny,” Ellie rolls her eyes, “Is he, like, _okay_?”

“Yeah, he’s fine, just needs some time to rest and, y’know, not get everybody else sick.”

"You're not gonna, like...stay and take care of him or whatever?"

"He's a big boy, with a whole set of parents who are worrying over him right now," Dina gives a light, incredulous kind of laugh, but something in her voice wavers, "C'mon, Boston, you're making me think you don't want me around."

Shit. That waver in her voice. That one hint that maybe she's hurt Dina in the slightest way is enough to cause a bloom of deep guilt in her. It's not fair that Dina should have this much sway on her, should be able to make her feel like this--that she should feel such an urgency to protect Dina's feelings. 

"I didn't say that--" 

"Well, then let's go," Dina says, "We're wastin' daylight."

Ellie sighs, watching Dina urge Japan forward, trotting ahead along the path without a second look back to make sure Ellie was following. She didn’t need to make sure--Dina knew Ellie had no choice but to follow her. Dina knew, Ellie hated that she knew, and Ellie suspected that Dina _knew that she hated that she knew._

Fuck. Too complicated. It hurt Ellie’s head, the intricacies of the mind games Dina seemed to be playing sometimes.

But complicated or not, it was absolutely true. Ellie didn’t have a choice but to follow her.

She waved the reins, and Shimmer followed Japan along the path ahead.

\--

“So…” Dina called back at her after they’d been walking for some time, “...how’s Joel?”

The path ahead was narrow, and right now, at the height of summer, the trees arched up overhead, full and bursting with clouds of green leaves, forming an almost too-perfect arch of greenery, a tunnel of flora. Every so often, the light broke through the canopy in brilliant, speckled patches along the ground.

“He’s...fine,” Ellie answered evasively, because it was a weird question. Why was she asking about Joel? 

Maybe because there wasn’t anything else about which she _could_ ask. There had been a feeling between them for a while that certain subjects were off limits, but for the life of her Ellie couldn’t figure out which topics, or why, or how she was supposed to know what she could or couldn’t talk about if Dina wouldn’t just fucking _tell_ her.

“That’s good…” Dina said, and there was something in the way she said it that seemed to trail away, as if she were desperately searching for more words to fill the silence, and just didn’t know which ones to use.

“Uh…” Ellie said, sensing that it was her turn to ask a question and further the conversation along, “How’s Jesse? Besides...the puking, I guess.”

“Oh…” Dina says with some surprise, “I guess he’s fine. I mean. You know we broke up, right?”

Ellie stares at her back, and for a few moments there’s only the slow _clop clop clop_ of hooves. The silence stretches on so long that Dina turns around, apparently concerned for Ellie’s wellbeing.

“You alright?” She asks, flashing one of those Dina smiles, bright and easy.

“Yeah,” Ellie says, “I’m fine. I didn’t know about you and Jesse.”

Dina shrugs as she turns back around in the saddle. Unconcerned. Ellie hates that. Ellie hates that she can be so flippant and unconcerned and that these things can mean so little to her, that she can just break up with Jesse and not tell Ellie about it, even though she _knows_ . She knows, because Ellie told her a year ago. _I really like you._

Stupid, Ellie thought. What a stupid thing to have said.

“Yeah, I mean...sometimes he just gets really...I don’t know…” Dina struggles for the words, “Sometimes it just feels like I can’t breathe with Jesse.”

“Jesse’s like...the least controlling or jealous dude I’ve ever known,” Ellie says, confused.

“Yeah, no, it’s not...it’s not _him,”_ Dina says, and it’s frustrating that Ellie can’t see her face, can’t read the emotions there to try to help figure out what the fuck she’s really saying, “I know it’s me. It’s my fault. I just--feel suffocated sometimes. It’s just a good time for a break, I guess.”

“So...you fully plan on getting back with him then?” Ellie says, skeptical and a little incredulous.

“Well, no. Yes? Maybe. I don’t know, I can’t predict the future.”

“Well, I could give you a pretty good guess,” Ellie mutters, mostly to herself.

“I really missed the muttering,” Dina says knowingly, and she laughs lightly.

They walk for a while longer, further through the hillside, and Ellie finds that her eyes keep falling on Dina’s back. There’s a whole world to look at, bounding with life and brilliance, a million fucking things she could put her eyes on, but somehow her stupid brain keeps pulling back to Dina. Keeps watching the way that speckled light glides over the dark waves of her hair, gathered up in a messy knot. Keeps watching the gentle curve of her bare shoulders, thinking about how to translate that shape to paper later. Which is normal. She draws her friends all the time. It’s completely normal and not at all weird to find herself watching the curve of Dina’s arms, find herself thinking how nice it is, thinking of what that shape might feel like under her hands--

Fuck.

No.

Nope.

 _Shit_.

Ellie drops her gaze to Shimmer’s mane, to the horse’s flicking ears, and she keeps it there, refusing to give her thoughts any more opportunity to fucking betray her like that.

“Whoa…” Dina says a little while later, “Did you hear that?”

“No,” Ellie says, eyes still stubbornly down, “What was it?”

“Sounded like--”

She’s interrupted by a loud, low roll of thunder.

“Shit,” Ellie says, finally looking up, but only to get a look at the sky.

There’s a storm moving in, dark and heavy. It’s whipping up fast; a wind kicks at their backs, rattles the leaves.

“We better hurry,” Dina says, “This could get bad.”

The first raindrop hits the back of Ellie’s hand, cool and heavy, and after all the scorching heat, it’s almost welcome--except that they’re still twenty minutes out from the lookout at the old factory. 

The wind continues to get worse, gusting hard through the trees; the thunder cracks closer, louder, until Ellie can feel the sound in her bones. The lightning is close behind, erupting in disorienting flashes across the sky. 

They urge the horses a little faster along the path.

\--

By the time they reach the loading bay on the south side of the factory, the rain is already falling down in buckets.

Ellie slides out of the saddle and runs for the garage door. The storm rages on, a cacophony of thunder and rain, as she scrambles inside her backpack for the key to the padlock.

"Take your time, Boston," Dina shouts over the storm, dropping down to lead Japan and Shimmer by the reins.

"Hold your horses," Ellie calls back as she turns the key in the lock, "Like, literally."

She doesn't have to look to know that Dina's rolling her eyes.

She heaves the garage door open, holds it up as Dina leads the horses inside. 

By the time she gets herself inside and locks the door behind them, she can hear Dina laughing.

Ellie looks down. She's completely drenched, from head to toe. Her shoes squelch and gush water with every step. It collects in a pool under her feet.

"Are you laughing at me?" Ellie asks, and she doesn't know why the grin is pulling at her lips, doesn't know what it is about watching Dina double up with laughter that feels so pleasant and infectious.

Maybe it's the fact that Dina looks as though she's been dunked in a lake--she's just as thoroughly sodden and bedraggled as Ellie.

Or maybe it's just that Dina's laugh is a good sound.

"No," Dina says, still laughing, "Maybe?"

Ellie scoffs, pushes a hand through her drenched hair, sweeps it out of her face, "I've got bad news then, pal--you're not looking much better."

"Are you saying you're not into the mud-splattered, half-drowned look?" Dina holds out her arms, as if for inspection.

Shit. 

She's fucking adorable. 

"It wouldn't be my first pick, no," Ellie laughs lightly and is more thankful than ever before that Dina isn't a mind reader.

"Um, it's called _fashion_ ," Dina tells her, pulling off her wet backpack, "Didn't they have _fashion_ back in Boston, or what?"

"If they did, I definitely wasn't paying attention…" Ellie pulls off her sodden trainers, pours a small stream of water from each in turn.

"Yeah, I can _tell_ ," Dina says, and she pulls a sidelong glance of haughty condescension, her best impression of a catty fashionista.

" _Harsh_ ," Ellie laughs with exaggerated offense.

"I'm _kidding,_ " Dina says, "I like your look. It's very... _don't mess with me, or I will fuck you up and be very comfortable while I do it._ It's like...lumberjack, but scary."

"Lumberjack?" Ellie says, outraged, " _Lumberjack?_ Because of the flannels?"

"You _really_ like the flannels," Dina says, "But it's fine, it's...it's very _Ellie._ It's not a bad thing."

Ellie pulls off one of the flannels in question; the rolled sleeves drip with rainwater. 

"And I'm concerned that you were more offended by _lumberjack_ than _scary,_ " Dina says with amused interest, "You're okay with _scary_ but not _lumberjack?"_

"Do you really think I'm _scary?"_ Ellie asks, draping the drenched flannel shirt over an old crate to dry; she sets her shoes on top of the crate, too, and turns to fix Dina with a questioning look.

\--

 _ **DINA**_.

Was Ellie scary?

She had to really consider the question heavily as the other girl stood there, leaning against the crate with that expression, that little crooked grin that was somehow simultaneously vulnerable and genuine, but also a _dare._

Daring Dina to say something she shouldn't. 

And it was a dare that part of Dina absolutely wanted to take. 

But the other part was absolutely terrified of what the consequences might be. 

So was Ellie scary? 

Oh, yeah.

She was terrifying. 

"No," Dina says with a suddenly distracted shake of her head, breaking away from Ellie's gaze with some difficulty, "But I wouldn't wanna be on the receiving end of that knife, either."

"And yet here you are complaining about my flannels straight to my face," Ellie laughs, does that thing again where she rakes her fingers through her hair--god, Dina hates that. She especially hates it right now, while Ellie's hair is tangled and darkened by the rain and a little extra wild. Dina _really_ hates it.

Mostly because she doesn't hate it at all.

"I wasn't... _complaining,_ exactly," Dina corrects her, "C'mon, let's go find somewhere to dry off and wait this storm out."

They get the horses settled and looked after, Ellie squishing around in a pair of damp socks like a dummy. Like a really neat, infuriatingly adorable dummy. When they're satisfied that Japan and Shimmer are comfortable, they take the stairs up to the next floor. 

It's a wide, cavernous warehouse, scattered with some remaining assembly equipment, but mostly cleared, the better to make a liveable spade for the rotating Jackson patrolmen. The far wall is set with an array of dingy, gray windows, tiled out in small rectangles of dull light. The storm outside rages against those windows, still going strong.

They head straight for the cramped little office at the front of the building. Ellie tries the lights but nothing happens. They'll have to go find the generator and get it started.

Dina watches Ellie as she heads out of the office, back into the warehouse, padding around in her socks like it's a dorm room. She's gonna step on a nail and get a nasty infection. Dina can see it happening, clear as day. It gives her a swell of anxiety--which isn't an emotion she finds terribly familiar. What is it about Ellie that does this to her? Turns her into a basketcase of worry, makes her want to ask a thousand dumb, nagging questions. Questions like: _Have you eaten? Did you sleep well? How are you feeling? Can you put on some shoes? Have you heard of tetanus? Do you know what it'll do to me, if you get hurt? Is Cat being nice to you? Is she everything you deserve? Is she everything I can't be for you? When she kisses you, does she touch your face just to make sure you're real, the way I would, the way I want--_

Shit. No, Dina. No.

There's a deep, guttural sound, and she realizes that Ellie has gotten ahead of her, has already started the generator. The lights far, far overhead flicker and flash into life. 

"Nice," Ellie says, stepping back, "Wait--what the hell is this…?"

She's looking at something covered in a crinkled blue tarp and leaned against the wall next to the generator. She looks up at Dina, as if Dina might have an answer. Dina still doesn't fully trust what might come out if she tries to use words right now, so she settles for a shrug instead.

Ellie steps forward, pulls the tarp away.

"It's a _bicycle_ ," Dina says with disbelief, "Holy shit. I bet it's Jim's. He's always collecting this shit."

Dina steps forward, pulls it away from the wall. It's a little rusted out in some places, but it's still in good working order. 

"You know how to ride one of these things?" Ellie asks with some skepticism.

"Uh...yeah," Dina says slowly, "Are you telling me you _don't?"_

"Well--"

"You don't know how to _ride a bike?"_

"Stop saying it like that."

"Like _what,_ you don't know how to _ride a bike_ , it's nothing to be _ashamed_ about--"

"You're very much making it sound like something I should be ashamed about."

"I mean...you should maybe be a little ashamed of not knowing how to _ride a bike--"_

"You have to stop."

Dina laughs, and Ellie laughs with her, and Dina can't figure out why this works, why they're able to communicate in this addictively easy way. It makes it that much harder, trying to talk to anyone else--they mistake her meaning, take her teasing too literally, just don't _get it._ But Ellie? Ellie always understands her somehow. It's liberating, not having to translate herself for Ellie, but it makes it all the more exhausting when she has to translate herself for everyone else, every day, all the time.

Why can't everyone be as easy to talk to as Ellie?

"Okay, Boston," She says, patting the seat of the bike, "Today's the day."

"Uh...what?" Ellie raises a dark brow questioningly. 

"I'm gonna teach you to ride a bike, duh."

"I'm not getting on that," Ellie says flatly, "No way."

"Oh my god…" Dina gasps, "Oh my _god--_ are you _scared?_ Is Ellie Williams, who came all the way from the _Boston QZ,_ actually _afraid--"_

"I'm not _scared,"_ Ellie says, unimpressed with Dina's goading, "I just prefer keeping my neck unbroken. It's kinda the, y'know, main goal of the whole _surviving_ thing."

"Wow," Dina says with exaggerated shock, "Just. Wow. Ellie is scared. Huh. Scared of a bicycle--"

" _Dina--"_

"What else are you scared of and not telling me about?" Dina asks, "Teddy bears? Those little wooden blocks with the letters on them? Dolls?"

Ellie stares at her through narrowed eyes.

Dina leans against the handle bars, holding Ellie's gaze.

They wait each other out, trying to see which of them will give in first.

Dina isn't even sure why she's doing this. Why does this matter? Ellie's not even wrong, it could be dangerous. 

But there's a chance Ellie will have fun. Real, genuine fun. And there's an irresistible pull for Dina in that possibility. A complete and total willingness to do _anything_ that will bring Ellie even a moment of joy--because Ellie's joy is _her_ joy. Making Ellie happy--it makes _her_ happy. A simple equation, but one with complex implications.

She can't stop to look at it too closely, to look at this feeling with any real consideration, because the results would be devastating. Because she would have to admit that what she feels for Jesse is strong and real and valid and good--

\--but it's not _this_.

So she doesn't look at the feeling head on. Just lets herself feel it, this swell of contentment at the possibility of having this moment with Ellie.

"Well?" Dina says, "What are you gonna do, Williams?"

Ellie sighs, rolls her eyes--and reaches for the handles of the bicycle.


	2. Dishes in the Sink

_**ELLIE.** _

"--my feet  _ are  _ on the pedals--"

"--both at the  _ same time,  _ Ellie--"

"-- _ HOW? THE WHOLE THING WILL FALL--" _

_ " _ You're such a  _ baby _ , I'm not gonna let you fall--"

"Swear to god, Dina--don't let this thing go, or so help me--"

"I  _ swear," _ Dina laughs and walks the bike a few more paces forward across the warehouse floor, keeping a steadying hold on the frame, "Have I ever let you down before?"

She's leaned close to Ellie, one hand on the handlebars, the other on the back of Ellie's seat. Ellie looks up at her. This is the worst idea. This is a terrible idea. She should not have agreed to this. She's for sure going to end up getting killed in a  _ bicycle accident.  _ The world is filled with mutant rage monsters, but it's gonna be a  _ bicycle  _ that does her in. 

And yet. With Dina's hand over hers on the bars--it feels a little bit worth it.

Which isn't okay to feel.

It's not.

She should be thinking about Cat. And she is. She really is. She's thinking about Cat and how this is nothing like being with Cat. Nothing about this is uncomplicated, the way it is with Cat. No, with Dina everything is tense; it's uncertain and it's a maze of coded meanings and things unsaid--and yet...why does it also feel so, so  _ easy?  _

" _ Shit--" _ Ellie curses and clutches Dina's arm in a panic as the front wheel of the bike wobbles unexpectedly, "-- _ shit, shit--" _

Dina laughs and Ellie wants to be mad, wants to be annoyed, but she can't. She just can't. And it's so stupid, that she would do anything to hear that sound. 

They keep at it, and it becomes easier; Ellie gets the hang of the pedals, the balance, the momentum. 

"Okay, okay, okay, I got it, you can let it go--"

"Are you sure--?"

" _ Yes-- _ yeah, you--NO--wait, yes. It's fine--"

The bike gives a hard lurch as Dina lets go, but Ellie rights it, gives the pedals a few pushes--

"Oh, shit," Ellie laughs, "I'm ridin' a motherfuckin'  _ bicycle _ ."

Behind her, Dina lets out a rousing cheer that echoes up into the steel rafters overhead.

There's definitely something to it, this bike thing; she does a round of the cavernous warehouse space and it's surprisingly peaceful. A lot of the time, her brain is a cacophony of overlapping thoughts that just never seem to quiet down. Even sleeping is a challenge, because the press of the silence and the darkness only seems to make her thoughts louder, faster, less manageable.

But right now there's only room to think about the bike, about staying upright, keeping a steady rhythm on the pedals. Which means that, for a moment, it's blissfully quiet in her head. For a moment, she's just  _ existing,  _ and it feels goddamn sublime.

\--

_**DINA.** _

Dina hops onto an old piece of equipment and sits, watches Ellie perform slow, wide figure eights in the space for several long minutes. Longer, maybe. It's hard to tell. There's a certain stillness in Ellie's face that Dina finds calming. That's the thing about Ellie--she's always cool and unbothered, always ready to answer just about every question with a noncommittal shrug, and yet Dina's always thought there was a sense of deep unrest behind her eyes. Even when Ellie's sitting still, she's clearly always fighting something. 

But for once, she looks content.

Ellie guides the bike back toward Dina, lifts a hand from the bars to wave up at her. Dina grins, waves back. Ellie is bringing the bike to a stop when the front wheel hits a raised edge of concrete flooring. It's just enough to make her stumble, get tangled in her own feet, land in a heap on the floor.

"Holy shit--are you  _ okay?"  _ Dina jumps down, crosses to her quickly and drops down to check on her.

But Ellie is laughing and already sitting up. 

"I'm fine," She says, "Dumbass floor messed everything up…" 

"Your leg--" Dina says, and she pulls in a breath through her teeth.

Ellie looks down, sees the rip in the knee of her jeans, the split skin underneath.

"Shit," She says, "Not a big deal. Is the bike okay? I'll feel like a dick if I messed it up."

"I'm not worried about the  _ bike,  _ dummy," Dina scoffs, sticking out her hand for Ellie to take, "Let's go put a bandage on it, at least."

\--

Ellie, seated in a chair in the office, watches as Dina inspects the knee again.

"Damn. You probably need a stitch or two, you know," Dina says, sitting in the floor with the first aid kit open, "It's worse than I thought."

"Gotcha, Doctor Dina," Ellie quips lightly, "You wanna pass me the stitch kit or what?"

"I can do it for you," Dina says, maybe too quickly, "It's not a big deal."

"I know it's not a big deal--that's why I can do it myself--"

"I could use the practice. Don't make it weird," Dina says, "Are you gonna make it weird?"

Ellie's eyes hold hers for a second and then she smiles, relents.

"Fine. Sew me up, doc."

Dina goes about the process of sterilizing and treating the wound and there's something about it that brings a strange sense of satisfaction. Which is fucking weird, right? It's weird, Dina decides, to  _ want  _ to do this. But it gets quiet, and Ellie leans forward, and Dina puts a steadying hand on Ellie's injured leg, and there's a closeness about it. An intimacy. 

God. She just wants to take care of this dummy. Some part of her just wants this bad joke-telling,  _ hold your horses  _ fool to know, really know, that she cares about her. It's not an instinct, a drive, that Dina's ever had before--she's not generally the  _ care giving  _ type. So what is it about Ellie that gives her this weak spot, this desperate urge to just fucking  _ take care of her _ ?

"So how's Cat?" Dina asks quietly as she's working, because feeling Ellie's eyes on her is too much, and she needs a distraction.

"She's good," Ellie says, and she offers no elaboration, to Dina's dismay. 

"And you guys are, y'know...good?" Dina prods gently.

"Yeah," Ellie says with a certain amount of reluctance, as if she's not sure exactly what she should say, "We've been able to spend a lot of time together lately."

"Yeah," Dina says, "I noticed. Nobody sees you guys around anymore."

Ellie gives an awkward, almost embarrassed grin, "Yeah, well...we've just been, y'know. Spending a lot of time, like...indoors."

"Indoors," Dina repeats the word flatly as if she's never heard it before, even though she knows exactly what it means.

"Uh...yeah, just--y'know. We…" Ellie stammers around the words, like a person who has very suddenly and very accidentally wandered into a pit of quicksand, "Just...things are--pretty serious, I guess and--ow! Shit, Dina--"

"Oh, god, sorry--" Dina says, having accidentally jabbed Ellie with the needle, because she can't get rid of it, the sudden knowledge of what Ellie is saying, the idea of Ellie taking off her clothes for someone--of Ellie taking anyone else's clothes off  _ for them _ \--

"Uh--all done--" Dina says quickly, and she pulls out a bandage, presses it over the fresh stitches.

"Shit--did that...make it weird?" Ellie asks, "I didn't mean to make things weird, Dina, I was just trying to answer the question--"

"No, it's fine," Dina says with her best forced laugh, which isn't very convincing, "Why would that be weird? It's not weird. It's normal. It's super normal. The most normal kind of, y'know...thing--"

"Well, the more you say the word  _ normal,  _ the less  _ normal  _ this is feeling, so…"

"No, really…" Dina snaps the first aid kit closed and gets up from the floor, trying hard to project only apathy and cavalierness, "I mean--it's not, like...there's anything wrong with it."

"Yeah…" Ellie says slowly, watching Dina as if she has concerns for her sanity, "I know there's nothing wrong with it."

"Well, it's just--you sounded kind of embarrassed and there's nothing to be embarrassed about, it's not embarrassing, it's a totally normal stage to get to in a relationship and as a, like, person. An adult person. A person who is an adult."

"Are you...feeling okay?" Ellie gives a concerned laugh, "You're scaring me, like, a little. Are you sure you haven't, like...hit your head or something?"

Oh, no. She can feel herself losing her cool, losing her grasp on that apathetic facade, and it's only making her feel all the more panicked and unhinged.

"No, I just--I guess I wasn't expecting to have a conversation about, like, who we're  _ fucking _ \--" 

" _ Wow,"  _ Ellie says, eyes wide with surprise, "That's...that's not at all the way I said it--"

"You didn't have to, but that's what we're talking about, right, that you and Cat are--I mean--"

Ellie stares back at her with a blank wall of an expression and Dina knows she's gone too far but she can't seem to pull back from this feeling, even though it isn't fair, even though she has no right to be this way, to react like this. None at all.

"Yeah," Ellie says flatly, an edge creeping into her voice, "We are. Why? Should I have, like, checked with  _ you  _ first? Gotten your permission?"

"No," Dina says quickly, "No, that's not--"

"Then what's the problem, Dina?  _ You _ ' _ re _ the one who even brought Cat up at all. What's your game?"

"There isn't a  _ game _ ," Dina says, deflating with guilt, "I just…"

She turns away from Ellie, presses her palm against her forehead, tries to get her thoughts back into some semblance of order.

This is it. This is the problem with Ellie. And it's not even  _ Ellie  _ at all, it's all her, all Dina. Because it's too much, too big and wild and real, the way Ellie makes her feel. It's like getting close to a hot stove and knowing, deep down, that if you do it, if you touch it, it's absolutely going to burn you to the ground.

Dina's lived her whole life with a certain amount of flexibility. Able to slip in and out of relationships, arrangements, without consequence. Without suffering any real amount of attachment. And there's an immense amount of freedom in it, in that easy detachment, and Ellie--

Ellie is the end of that freedom, and she knows it. Because whatever this is between them, Dina can't stay detached from it. She knows she won't be able to slip in and out of it. If she gives in to this, she won't be the same person, and that's absolutely terrifying. 

But when Ellie reaches out from the chair, takes her hand, gently pulls her back--she doesn't fight. Doesn't resist. Ellie closes her hand around Dina's and pulls her in close, closer than she should. It's too intimate and visceral and yet Dina can't convince herself to argue or make her stop.

Ellie looks up at her from the chair and there's an intense focus in her eyes, the kind of focus that makes it hard for Dina to breathe.

"What is it, Dina?" Ellie asks--low, slow, quiet.

And it's not just a question, it's a dare--daring Dina to do something she shouldn't. It's an open door, a way in. All she has to do is take it. All she has to do is admit it, admit how much she wants Ellie--not just physically, because that would be too easy. The complicated part is that she wants so much more from Ellie. Wants  _ all  _ of Ellie. Her past, present, future. Wants her secrets, her fears. Her hopes and disappointments. She wants to be  _ boring  _ with Ellie. In a house somewhere, every night, falling asleep watching her draw in her notebook. Breakfast in the morning followed by the same goddamn chores every day. Maybe some goats, and a porch, and dishes in the sink. 

And that makes her feel insane. 

It's too big.

Too much.

But, god, Ellie has such a magnetism, and would it hurt to just give in, just once? 

Fuck.

Dina pulls away, shakes her head, clears her throat.

"I, uh...I'm gonna go check on the horses," She says quietly, pulls her hand away from Ellie's, leaves the office.

Ellie doesn't try to stop her.


	3. Confusing or Not

_**ELLIE.** _

As soon as Dina's gone, Ellie leans over in the chair, puts her hands over her head, lets out a long, quiet, " _ What the fuck…" _

She should  _ not  _ have done that. For so many reasons, she should not have pulled that stunt. 

She'd seen it though--she  _ knows  _ it was there, in Dina's face. A tangle of ambiguous jealousy, ignited by the conversation about Cat. She'd been  _ jealous _ . Hadn't she? 

Ellie had never seen her get that way with Jesse. The two were famously very  _ un _ jealous. Which really made it all the more unfair that Dina should get upset with  _ her  _ that way--Ellie was only ever following Dina's lead. Trying to do and be what Dina wanted. So why did it feel like she was constantly fucking it up?

She’d just been so sure this time. Sure that she’d felt something, that  _ Dina  _ had felt something. But once again, she’d given Dina an  _ in _ , and Dina had made her choice.

And now Ellie just had to wrestle with the guilt of having betrayed Cat. It was true that nothing had happened--they hadn’t even exchanged any specifically treasonous words. But Ellie had wanted it. Had ignored her obligations to Cat for even just the  _ hint _ of something real out of Dina. 

Cat, who had consistently given Ellie nothing but wide open affection. Who had been patient and kind with all of Ellie’s stupid hang ups--like how even just  _ holding hands _ used to make her nervous and jumpy, because what if she needed her knife? Her gun? Because even that small contact with another human had felt strange and awkward and not right, at first. But Cat had kept at it, slow but sure, until it no longer bothered Ellie. Until she could see that, yeah--holding hands was kind of nice.

_ Fuck. _

Ellie was sure that she had to be the shittiest human being on the planet at that moment. What was it about Dina that made her like this? Maybe it was the cool confidence, that persistent sense that Dina didn’t  _ need _ anyone. She wasn’t a wilting flower who  _ needed  _ you to hold her up. She didn’t need anyone to  _ complete  _ her. So her relationships were forged through deliberate choice, not accidental obligation or internal deficit. So when she chose you--it was because she truly, deeply  _ wanted  _ you. And Ellie could see a powerful kind of honesty in that. 

Sometimes with Cat, she couldn’t be sure if Cat really liked  _ her _ \--or just that she was  _ there.  _ Sometimes it felt like Cat would have talked at anyone, said the same things to anybody else who might have been in Ellie’s place. Cat was smart and talented and Cat liked being made to  _ feel  _ smart and talented. Which Ellie could do. But so could anyone else. 

There were parts of Ellie that Cat would never know, because Cat didn’t want to know them. Cat had never asked her about Boston. About the journey that had brought Ellie and Joel to Jackson. She’d never asked about the QZ. As patient as she’d been, she’d never asked  _ why  _ something like a touch on the hand might make Ellie jump.

But Dina had already asked. She and Dina had already spent many patrols talking, joking, forming an easy and comfortable kind of communication that was all their own. 

Dina made her feel  _ seen.  _ Made her feel like all her broken parts were still worth knowing, that they didn’t have to be swept away for the sake of appearances. 

And there was something about that which Ellie just couldn’t shake. Something that stuck with her, kept pulling her back to Dina, again and again. It’s enthralling, being seen. Really  _ seen. _

Ellie sits back up, scrubs her face with her hands, as if it will help subdue this stupid feeling in her chest. Because it doesn’t matter how Dina makes her feel--not when Dina clearly doesn’t feel the same.

It’s a hard thought to accept, like a rock sinking in her stomach, but it’s the truth. Dina doesn’t feel the same. She can’t.

Or she wouldn’t have walked away.

\--

Dina stays gone for a long time. Ellie raids the cabinets for food as the storm continues on into the late evening. She eats a meager dinner of saltines and a bottle of water, alone at a desk in the corner. She wishes she’d just kept riding the bike, or that she’d insisted more on sewing herself up, or that they hadn’t talked about Cat--maybe then Dina would have at least been eating dinner with her. 

When Dina does finally return, she keeps her eyes mostly on the ground. Anywhere but at Ellie. It makes her feel like she’s grown a second head, or has suddenly gotten very hard to look at. It doesn’t make her feel better, in any case.

“Uh…” Dina says, standing in the doorway, “It’s not letting up. Do you think we should try pushing through it, or should we spend the night?”

Ellie chews a saltine thoughtfully, stares at the pitted surface of the desk. 

“What do  _ you  _ wanna do?” She asks, “I’ll follow your lead.”

Dina hesitates, hands fidgeting restlessly.

“I’m not...I’m not a great lead to follow,” She says, uncharacteristically subdued, “I...I don’t always know what I’m doing. Don’t always know where I’m going. Where I want to go. And then sometimes I really wanna go somewhere, but I just--don’t know how to get there yet. And that...that’s probably really fucking confusing for anyone trying to follow me.”

Ellie lets her gaze edge up toward Dina. Dina’s watching her now, waiting to see what she’ll say. Ellie sighs, looks out the office windows at the storm. 

“Well,” She says, “Pretty sure some people would follow you anywhere. Pretty sure they just wanna, y’know...be wherever you are. Confusing or not.”

She glances back at Dina. 

And it’s okay.

For now.

Dina goes to the closet, drags out the sleeping bags stored there, lays them out in the office floor. 

They lie in the floor and Ellie shares the saltines and they talk like nothing has happened and it doesn't make sense--it really doesn't. Ellie doesn’t know why it works, this thing between them, why it's able to just keep going despite the tangled, awkward snares--but she's really, really glad for it.

Ellie remembers laughing at something Dina said, there in the dark, and then she must have fallen asleep. When she wakes up, it’s to find Dina folded against her side, with an arm thrown lazily over her middle. The storm outside has stopped. 

She could wake Dina up. They know the way well enough that they could go back, even through the dark, and probably make pretty good time. 

She should wake Dina up. 

She really should.

But she doesn’t. 

It’s not even a hard decision to make.

In fact, it’s very, very easy.


End file.
